Skinny-Dipping In Love: An Invitation To The Restive Wanderer.
{source/credit: © Depositphotos.com/@ Jetrel via Rebecka Eggers}
It’s Time to Come Home!
If walking away were a weapon, you would have it locked and loaded at all times, and there would be a thousand casualties littering the path behind you.
You have turned making it on your own into an art form, and leaving into a legacy.
Even if you do have a few relationships in your life, your metaphorical bags are always packed. You know all too well that with the drop of a hat everything could change and you might have to bolt.
Hell, you might even just want to! You can’t stand to feel cornered, especially by other people’s demands. Rather than succumb to someone else’s burdensome needs, you would walk a thousand miles without shelter or company.
In fact, you are always alone even when you are with someone else. Company is a relative term!
That’s because you won your freedom the hard way, from hard circumstances, and no matter what else happens, you are not going back to where you came from.
But truth be told, there’s a storm brewing underneath the calm veneer of your departure skills. You are beginning to realize that you haven’t really solved anything after all.
This storm has a name: Yearning!
You are yearning for the kind of relationships that will stoke the barely glowing embers of your heart fire.
It isn’t that you can’t stoke them on your own. All you need for that is a few deep breaths and a sunset. But you want more.
Late at night, when nobody is watching, the occasional stray tear makes its way down your cheek. You long for the reassurance of a warm hand on your soft shoulder — a hand you won’t have to cast off.
You crave genuine appreciation from someone who thinks you are simply D-Vine just as you are.
You wipe away that lone tear as if this small gesture could erase your growing hunger. Nothing in your experience has ever suggested there is any point in indulging this lust for love.
So, you tuck it away beneath the folds of your stalwart will. It’s time for bed.
Such a melancholy scene!
You are fading away over there, with your weather-tight luggage all shrink-wrapped and ready to go. And for what? The simple want of the truth!
It doesn’t have to be this way.
It’s time to heal this rift between you and the rest of humanity. I know it is hard to find the alternative when you have never seen it.
The only thing you know of love is restriction, abuse, abandonment, insult… but what if you could pick up a magic, dare I say, fire-tipped paintbrush, and begin to construct a different scene?
Yes. I can see it now!
I see you relaxing, letting this old tension go in the midst of warm and tender hands on your soft shoulders. I see hands you won’t have to swat away, hands that long to comfort, bring relief, give you pleasure, gather you in and turn you out.
I see you ensconced, literally hidden away from the loneliness of wandering, by the sound of celebration and the warm glow of sunlight peaking around the corners of your formerly mundane life. Sparkly!
You are being welcomed! Like royalty, I might add.
I can feel — as though it were my own — the sensation of your skin tingling with the unfamiliar pleasure of touch unfettered by fear. The beads of simple, innocent, untainted delight are forming on your forehead.
They are washing away your tired, furrowed brow. You are starting to glisten in the sunlight. You are dancing in front of eyes that wish only to lend their support to the magnificent unfolding of you.
For a moment you even dare to dive in to this new reality.
You are skinny-dipping in love!
I am watching as your senses come alive to the blazing heat of your own heart fire stoked to ecstasy by an exquisite kind of belonging.
Where once a withering ember lay, I am witnessing this marvelous wildfire burn out every last remnant of your exile. There before you lies a banquet table stacked with more lusciousness than you have ever dared imagine.
Go on. Take a heaping bucketful of deliciousness.
This table was set for you, laid out carefully, elegantly, stupendously, by the strength of your own intentions.
It’s brimming with tenderness. Overflowing with delight.
Welcome home!
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